Leo Chaloukian: All the way to Tinseltown - Armenian Reporter

Letters to a young, Armenian poet: letter three
by Lory
Bedikian
The following letter, the third among four, is
inspired by the well-known published Letters
to a Young Poet, written by Rainer
Maria Rilke, the great German poet. Rilke
was known to receive letters from young
people and in the one set referred to above,
from 1903 to 1908, he wrote a series of letters
to a young, beginning poet answering
questions about poetry and life. The idea
of writing these letters has been borrowed
as a starting point for discussion between
a poet and beginning poets or artists who
may need support in their callings.
Dear Poet,
I must apologize for not writing to
you sooner. I know months have passed
since I have corresponded with you and
this has much to do with my own challenges.
Someday I am sure a younger poet will
write to you as well and ask for advice
on poems, on their endeavors, and you
will have to search inside yourself for
the correct words and ideas so as to be
honest and at the same time not crush
such a magnanimous spirit!
Let me be honest with you now as to
why it took me so long to write. Promise
yourself that you will not be discouraged
by what I tell you, but encouraged, inspired,
for in all curses, some sort of
blessing eventually emerges.
For the past several months I have
been overwhelmed by concerns pertaining
to that of finances. Now, as artists,
we look at the topic of money, of income
as the furthest away from our own creations.
And perhaps they are. After all,
our work is created out of spirit, whereas
the money we need for survival comes
from the structure of society. I will put
it simply: money will never make us
more creative, will never enhance the
genius within us. Money is only a tool
toward surviving on this earthly plain.
Unfortunately, there will be phases, perhaps
years, decades, when you will need
more money than you have to make
ends meet. I do not mean the amount
of money that others have that supply
them with dwellings made for a family
of ten, though they live alone. I do not
mean an income that provides for two
of everything and plenty of unnecessary
material items that take up space.
Lory Bedikian received her MFA in poetry from the
University of Oregon. Her collection of poetry has
twice been selected as a finalist in the Crab Orchard
Series in Poetry Open Competition and twice in
the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award
Competition.
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The great German poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote a series of letters to a young, beginning poet answering questions about poetry and life.
I mean you will need enough money to
pay for your rent, your food, your doctor’s
bills, etc. (I will not include clothes
or cars and anything in those categories,
because I speak only of necessities.)
Take the frustrations you
feel and form them into
stanzas, songs, concertos,
paintings, plays, sculptures,
whatever it may be that suits
the subject.
“...some sort of blessing eventually emerges.”
There will be moments – and they will
emerge at the oddest of times – when
you will realize that people who are
not searching within themselves, people
who could care less about creating
something for the betterment of themselves
and others are living with much
wealth and prosperity. Throw these observations
out to the trash cans, those
places where you discard what could
never be kept in your home. Treat
your mind the same way, clean it out
and throw away what is accumulating
as refuse. There will always be people
who will have much material possessions
and that is because they need
these things. Do your best not to judge
them, not to think of it too much. It
will only decrease your energy for your
own work. Instead say a silent prayer
for them, that some miracle will allow
them to see that they could share their
wealth with those who need it more
than themselves. And if you cannot discard
these thoughts, write of them, and
do something of a higher purpose. Take
the frustrations you feel and form them
into stanzas, songs, concertos, paintings,
plays, sculptures, whatever it may
be that suits the subject.
I cannot tell you which path to choose
in terms of your livelihood, your job, but
just know that your poetry, your art is
your calling and a calling does not necessarily
pay the bills. When it does, it’s an
amazing blessing. This does not mean,
abandon your calling. Absolutely not! It
just means that remember to separate
your art from your work and if someday
both can be the source of your income,
the way you survive, then raise your
arms in thanks and share your findings,
On page C1: Leo Chaloukian is a distinguished sound executive in one of
Hollwood’s premier sound-recording companies. He has been behind the
scenes of several blockbuster movies . Photo courtesy of the Television
Academy. See story on page C9.
solutions with other artists. Your art
may not bring you the money you need
to pay your bills, but it will always supply
you with an abundance that cannot be
counted in numbers. If your remember
this, you will not resent your talents.
You have my explanation, in part, of
my tardiness in writing to you. I had to
figure out which odd jobs to take on in
the coming months. I had to make sure
I would still have a place to live while
I write, while I keep doing what I was
brought here to do. I have faith that the
future will bring a solution to being able
to write my poems, share with others
and yet survive in a world where balances
are always due and prices rise like
skyscrapers.
As Armenians, we have struggled
historically. Those who came to this
country worked their way up from the
lowest rungs of wages and toil. Today,
many still know what work is, how it
kneads the brow and knots the back.
Then there are the ones who live easy
(But, of course, no amount of money
can ease the inner world we all live with
when we rise and when we go to sleep
at night). Don’t compare yourself to either
group or those in between, but look
to all as voices that may speak through
your poems, your art. By taking on their
voices, you and your readers may learn
something of their worldview and of our
own.
You had questions in your last letter
that I have not answered. Please trust
that I will do so next time I write. For
now, I must go back to an idea I had for
a poem, before I forget and it’s too late
to remember. It had to do with standing
in line for an application to work at a local
market, while an old man’s cracked
glasses reflected the noonday sun, and
a woman’s diamond ring sparkled under
the neon light. And while both were
made of different materials, both were
frighteningly bright.
f
C2 Armenian Reporter Arts & Culture September 20, 2008